Love Hearts
by RainThestral93
Summary: Honeydukes has introduced a bizarre Muggle sweet called 'Love Hearts' and the students of Hogwarts keep finding ways to use them to declare unspoken feelings. Read for sweet interactions between everyone's favourite characters. "Everyone was wondering why exactly it was that Dumbledore wanted a love potion, but nobody wanted to be so rude as to ask." Read & Review please! :D
1. Be Mine

**Be Mine**

"I wondered when I'd be seeing you again, Miss Granger," Fred had commented with his trademark grin plastered all over his freckled face. Hermione had smiled up at her favourite twin as she pushed an unruly curl behind her ear.

"You sound Mr Ollivander," she'd quipped, and laughed as she watched the shock that flitted across Fred's face.

"I have you know I'm much more attractive than that old codger," Fred had exclaimed, pretending to be offended.

"You sure about that?" Hermione's tone was teasing, and carefree. Now that exams were done until the end of the year, the Gryffindor Golden girl was finally relaxing and taking time to feel comfortable in her own skin.

"Geeeeoorrrrrrrrrgggggeeeee," Fred screamed, and Hermione winced… she had never understood why boys felt the need to shout even when people were stood right next to her.

"What Fred?" George asked, popping his head out of the store cupboard. He spotted Hermione almost immediately, and bounced over to say hi, grasping Hermione in an enthusiastic hug.

"'Mione!" He'd exclaimed, "Long time no see… come to stock up on love potions, eh," he'd teased her with a saucy wink.

"Oh I don't need any help in that department," Hermione had quipped good naturedly.

"And why's that?" Fred had asked, cautiously. He'd liked Hermione ever since they spent the summer at Grimmauld place and he'd gotten to know the bookworm … if she had a new guy on the scene he wasn't quite sure how he'd react.

"Jealous, are you Fred?" Hermione had teased looking up at Fred with wide brown eyes and an innocent smile on her face.

"Erm – well, what –" Fred had spluttered, and to save his brother from further embarrassment, George stepped in, placing a hand on Fred's chest to stop him.

"What my idiotic brother here is trying to say is," he explained – with a pause for dramatic effect, "He fancies the pants off you."

There was silence between the trio as Hermione looked at Fred, Fred looked at Hermione, then George, who looked between Hermione and Fred as Hermione looked at Fred and Fred looked at Hermione followed by George.

"You what?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Erm." Fred looked at the floor. "Ifancyyou." He said it so quickly that is sounded more like Ron when he insisted on talking with food in his mouth, but Hermione got the gist of it.

"Fred Weasley fancies plain old prudish Hermione Granger?" Hermione asked teasingly, and Fred raised his eyes from the ground to look at her. He was now an interesting shade of crimson, and George clapped his back, before announcing.

"Best be off, then," He grinned, "Duty calls, besides my work here is done."

Fred stared agape at his brother as he wandered back into the storeroom.

"Do you really?" Hermione asked earnestly, looking up at Fred who was a good head taller than her, even when he was slouching.  
"Err," Fred cleared his throat nervously, as he composed himself. "Yeah, I do. I like you Hermione… and I'd have liked to tell you that on my own terms, but I guess my brother had different plans."

Hermione laughed nervously, still looking at Fred with wide eyes. His smile tugged at one side of his mouth in a bashful grin. A spattering of rose blush rose to colour Hermione's cheeks, and making her decision, she reached up and kissed Fred Weasley.

Hermione worried at first when Fred didn't respond to her lips on his… but then the shock dissipated and Fred Weasley realised that the girl he'd been crushing on for a year or so was kissing him, and he kissed her back with his unspoken feelings, deepening the kiss as he wound his hand around the small of her back, drawing her closer to him so that they were pressed up against a display of Love Potions.

Fred nipped Hermione's bottom lip playfully, and the moan that she uttered gave the twin the opening he needed to gingerly caress her tongue with his in slow, languid strokes. Hermione's moans reverberated through Fred's mouth, and he shivered in pleasure, feeling the sensation all the way down to his toes.

"Ahem," a voice cleared their throat, and Fred and Hermione broke apart guiltily. Hermione's face turned a shade of beetroot when she saw the headmaster of Hogwarts stood in front of her, regarding Fred and herself with a look of bemusement and curiosity. "Ahh, young love," the bespectacled old man smiled warmly. "I'm sorry to interrupt but I need one of those love potions," he explained, gesturing to the pink and purple bottles on the shelf behind where Fred and Hermione had been leaning against moments before.

Fred cleared his throat, and gathered his wits, "Of course, sir," he gave Dumbledore one of the bottles. Everyone was wondering why exactly it was that the wizard wanted a love potion, but nobody wanted to be so rude as to ask.

"It's for my niece," the old man explained with a wink, answering the question that nobody had asked. The way he did that was unnerving, Hermione mused. It was as if he could read your mind.

Dumbledore nodded to Hermione and Fred, "Please continue, I'll just have a browse," he smiled and Hermione and Fred bowed their heads sheepishly.

Dumbledore ambled over to the pygmy puff section and started tickling a little ball of orange fluff.

"So," Hermione began awkwardly, and Fred smiled at the brown haired witch in front of him. Then a look of realisation crossed his face, and Fred fumbled in his pockets for a small cellophane wrapped packet.

Hermione looked at him curiously – what was Fred Weasley doing with the Muggle sweets love hearts? But Fred fumbled with the wrapper and offered Hermione one of the candy treats. Taking one, a smile flitted across her face as she read it.

"Be mine?" Fred asked nervously.

"Of course," grinned Hermione, as she reached up to kiss the redhead again.


	2. Young Love

**Young Love**

In a rare victory against Gryffindor in Quidditch, thanks to Potter being in the hospital wing, and Draco Malfoy having the edge over Gryffindor reserve seeker, there was a ruckus in the Slytherin common room.

Pucey, or perhaps Flint, had snuck into the kitchens and threatened the house elves until they managed to acquire enough alcohol for the Slytherin team to host a proper celebration. It was after a few rounds of drinks that some of the students were slouched around the fire in a shambolic circle, rare smiles on their faces. Draco and Pansy were across from one another, and Pansy kept throwing longing looks in the blonde's direction. Draco was doing his best to ignore her, but wasn't having much of an effect.

Flint, the boy whose teeth were a sight alone to look at, spun an empty bottle of butter beer – initiating a game of spin the bottle. Blaise Zabini, one of the only students in the school who had an uncanny ability for wordless spells, cast a charm on the bottle so that it came to rest on Malfoy and Pansy.

"Snog her," Zabini smirked, and Malfoy shot daggers in the dark skinned wizard's direction. The last thing that Parkinson needed was encouragement.

Pansy raised an eyebrow in what Malfoy suspected was an attempt to look sexy. The look she achieved was somewhat closer to constipated, he chuckled to himself. Fine then, he sighed, rolling his eyes as he leant across the circle and prepared to get the worst over with.

Before he met her lips, Pansy looked up at him with wide eyes. "Are you nervous?" She whispered hoarsely, which again Malfoy suspected was her trying to sound seductive. Again, the effect was closer to Professor Trelawney with a chest infection, than anything else.

"Why would I be nervous, Pans?" He smirked, "I'm the best kisser in the world."

Modesty certainly wasn't Draco Malfoy's greatest quality.

Truthfully, Draco Malfoy had a hidden fear that he was a rubbish kisser. He never knew the lips to tongue ratio, and was struggling to get his head around the throat. Pansy was a massive gossip, and he had to get this right if he didn't want the entirety of the school to know how poor sex god Malfoy was at simply kissing.

He smirked and leant to kiss the blonde witch. She was rather plain looking, and she had a turned up nose which Malfoy secretly thought made her look a bit like a pug. Or at least a boxer, with a broken nose. He winced, thankful for the dull lighting in the common room so that the game players didn't see his blush, as he pressed his lips to Parkinson.

After a few moments, he pulled away, his nostrils heavy with the scent of that disgusting perfume that Pansy insisted on bathing in, and he struggled to supress a cough, it was that over powering. He smiled lazily at the witch, knowing that she had been far more into the kiss than he himself. He did have tend to have that effect on the opposite sex, he thought, grinning smugly to himself.

The game dissolved as the students went to bed, but over the passing days and weeks, Draco Malfoy found himself missing the pressure of Pansy's lips upon his own. He was alarmed at this admission, scaring even himself, and racked his brains for a plan of campaign.

He needed to work out a way in which he'd be able to steal another kiss from Parkinson, without seeming desperate, or needy – heaven forbid. He had a light bulb moment as an idea popped into his mind one transfiguration lesson. Draco chucked a note on Pansy's desk which asked her to walk to his next class with him. She responded with a raised eyebrow, wondering what he was playing at, but knowing better than to counter the wishes of the Prince of Slytherin, she nodded. Malfoy smirked, and turned his attention back to transfiguring his goblet of pumpkin juice into wine.

"What is it you wanted?" Simpered Pansy as they walked past an empty Potions classroom. Malfoy shot furtive looks around the corridor before deciding to make a move. He shoved the blonde witch into the room, slamming the door shut behind her as he pushed her up against the wall.

In the silence that followed, Malfoy could hear Pansy swallow nervously. He himself licked his lips, before they descended upon her own.

With surprising warmth, his lips melded with hers, and their tongues battled for dominance. He found himself tracing the skin at the base of her sweater, as his fingers toyed with the fabric. She arched her slender figure into him, and he moaned against her mouth.

Malfoy was surprised at just how soft and pliable Pansy's lips were, and he pondered that thought as he kept kissing her. She opened her mouth slightly, uttering a breathy moan as he mimicked her actions. Just as Malfoy was beginning to lose the sparse tendrils of self-restraint he still had, the other entrance to the classroom swung open, and Professor Snape stared at the spectacle in front of him. Now here was a site you didn't see every day.

"Mr Malfoy, kindly remove yourself from Miss Parkinson and get to your next lesson at once before I dock points and you find yourselves in detention. I will have no displays of affection in my classroom, is that clear?"

Malfoy jumped at the intrusion, embarrassed to have been caught in such a compromising position. He coughed, and righted himself. Pansy smoothed down her skirt, mumbling her apologies as both students hastily exited the classroom, daring to throw a backwards glance in Professor Snape's direction.

The potions master chuckled once he was alone in his now student-free classroom, "Young Love," he muttered to himself with a shake of his long, black greasy haired. Then he wiped his face of his smile, and replaced it with a menacing sneer, preparing to terrify his First Year potions class, as the bell rang, and the first students began to filter in.


End file.
